A blonde's Keepsake
by SevenSi
Summary: Trish and her sword Sparda, written for a sentence community, to show some dynamic between her and her relationship with her sword. Trish centric.


**Fandom:** Devil May Cry  
**Pairing: **Trish x Sparda (mostly as weapon)  
**Rating: **PG13 to R for few mature images, violence, and bad language (so I placed it in M for overall mature related content)

This was written for a sentence community and am curious to explore the dynamics of Trish and her trusty Sword Sparda.

**#01 – Ring**

She didn't know why; she didn't want to know anymore, but her feelings were going around in circles because she loved that sword so much it hurt.

**#02 – Hero**

Sparda was the hero, the only one who dared, the only fucking being who gave a damn, saving the entire human race from extinction, and all she could do was worship him as her lily white fingers lovingly touched the sharpened edges.

**#03 – Memory**

What did it matter if she didn't have any goddamn memories; what mattered now was that he was here right now, laying next to her in her bed.

**#04 – Box**

Her keepsake wouldn't go into the box; she wouldn't dare place him inside something that kept him hidden.

**#05 – Run  
**

Whenever she took to running at those demons that challenged her, Trish had the uncanny intuition he was running alongside of her; her hand fastened on him, cutting their enemies in half and their mutual admiration for each other grew.

**#06 – Hurricane  
**

She was a demonic tempest, riding along those blessedly hot waves of passion; the wind pushed her blonde hair up in an oval torrent, and he pulsed red - the sound of two heartbeats merged as her hair slowly fell around her weapon.

**#07 – Wings**

She wasn't like Lucia, as Trish didn't have any wings – why would she have them, since she wasn't an angel; she was the last person to deny her origins, belonging in the same mould with Sparda, albeit to a lesser degree.

**#08 – Cold**

There was nothing cold about her, and as the mere thought of using Sparda in a battle never failed to make her go all hot and pinkly flushed, she'd cloak it with pretended cynical expression – using snark and cruel wit to her offenders.

**#09 – Red**

"I happen to like the color red too," she said to Dante one day, her hand possessively on the Sparda, "and he's all mine."

**#10 – Drink**

She could drink any man under the table; it was in her temperament, and she loved to share many of these moments drinking next to her favorite weapon.

**#11 – Midnight**

"My father's here now…." Dante told her when she had died at the witching hour; those words would be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

**#12 – Temptation**

Sparda always tempted her, and she'd stare at him with longing when she brought out the twin guns, _also from Sparda's original stash, _but some things needed a quick and easy finish when he was so far away from her, slicing off heads only to come home to her.

**#13 – View**

_oh hell yeah – the view from the top was awesome, _Trish thought, her bloodied hand holding on to the Sparda; the picture perfect of her silhouette would forever be stained in the slow minds of dying demons from below.

**#14 – Music**

She didn't play any musical instruments well, but there was one thing she did well, and that was handling Sparda.

**#15 – Silk**

Next to leather, she liked silk, buying the material to wrap around her baby; he was spoiled beyond imagination – caressed by her strong thighs and the finest fabric to grace his soul.

**#16 – Cover**

Her body could grace the cover of a playboy magazine: lean, hot and a definite eye-catcher, and his presence would only enhance the pose.

**#17 – Promise**

Trish never made a promise to anything or anyone in her entire existence, but some things didn't need to be said; he would make sure everything would fall into place with no words said.

**#18 – Dream **

She dreamt about him and maybe, just maybe she was spending way too much time thinking about the possibilities – he was after all just inside the sword.

**#19 – Candle**

No weapon could hold a candle to hers; Trish had the most powerful and versatile sword that puts all others to shame.

**#20 – Talent**

_His blonde partner was talented alright, _Dante told this to his friend Enzo, _and there was something about the way she moved, just like a sleek panther when she used his father. _

**#21 – Silence**

When she fought, she was a boisterous fighter; an Amazonian woman in black leather wielding a deadly weapon of silent vigilance.

**#22 – Journey**

There was no journey without her twin pistols - the Luce and Umbra, and the heavy familiar feel of Sparda backing her up made it all worth it at the end of the day.

**#23 – Fire**

She was on fire – the stunning grace of her fighting skills didn't go unnoticed when she used him, creating true fear in her enemies.

**#24 – Strength**

The woman in black was amazed at the demon hunter's strength, but she secretly admired her own, impishly loving every minute of tearing the pieces of shits that roamed the earth with the steel of justice.

**#25 – Mask**

Trish's smile was extremely kind; she couldn't help but stretch her lips as she heaved a brutal blow to the demon's head, splitting it in two, and _shit – damned Sparda_ would be smiling along with her, the image reflected off the sword.

**#26 – Ice**

If Dante's Lady was perceived as the ice queen, then Dante's Trish would be considered the queen of hell with her sword as the ultimate scepter of inferno.

**#27 – Fall**

Dante watched her after he had finished off killing a demon, watched how she fell against her opponent – her hair in a golden halo around her, the flash of red and metal created loud noises as chunks of flesh and bone were severed from their owners.

**#28 – Forgotten**

She'd never forget a demon's face, no matter what – not to mention her powerful blade would vibrate with a kind of nudging reminder whenever she passed one cloaked as a human.

**#29 – Dance**

Sparda secured himself in the comfort of her hands; she was the only one who could handle him now and forever, dancing in their way in the manner of unrequited romance.

**#30 – Body**

Trish didn't really give a fucking damn; why would anyone care if she slept with the Sparda every night – a body had a right to whatever fantasy they wanted within reason.

**#31 – Sacred**

When Trish uttered Sparda's name in that explicit tenor of familiarity, Dante had the rash sense of a world shifting of bits of rough dyes, forms, strange awareness, and shapes knocked out of place into a hallucination of obscure irrationality and sudden sacred meanings –_ like a powerful drug -_ wondering if those two would ever part or die together until death do them part.

**#32 – Farewells**

"You mother fucking piece of hell dung!" she cussed like a sailor, and fought like a demon who wanted to settle some scores, "I think Sparda wants to say goodbye to you, remember him, asswipe?" – puncturing the monster with every jagged reminder.

**#33 – World**

"The sky...so clear….so blue!" she had said back then with the perfect naivety of one who came out of darkness; Trish thought that leaving the underworld would be the last bloodshed she'd see, which was far from the truth when all she'd be doing in the new world would be more killing – evil humans and demon alike.

**#34 – Formal**

In the most formal battles, Trish liked to fight with her teeth bared; the shiny pearly whites there mirrored by her companion to show her enemies that she's quite happy at what she's doing.

**#35 – Fever**

"Don't you ever fuck with me, asshole!" her feverish rage blinded her as she shot into the demon twenty times over, and feeling that Sparda was lonely, she grabbed him and proceeded to cut the little shit into pieces.

**#36 - Laugh**

When she laughed, it was deep and husky, like the tender nurturing mother who cradled her baby to sleep; but she'd always have the last laugh as her blade always guaranteed a demons head for her.

**#37 - Lies**

She really hated to lie, despised it, but she had to, to tell the family in question that their child was going to be alright; that was a load of shit – the demon took the baby and she was too late, just barely catching a piece of its demonic energy with the Sparda was the last residue they could find.

**#38 - Forever **

"I hate forever," she said to no one in particular, Sparda next to her as she looked out at the edge of the world, but he gave her much ease being there just because.

**#39 – Overwhelmed**

When she felt relaxed, using the twin guns was like taking candy from babies, and when she was overwhelmed, all she had to do was throw Sparda with a twist of her wrist and heads would roll.

**#40 – Whisper**

"You're just what I needed, I needed someone to bleed…" Trish growled so softly in the darkness, a serene glow of fluorescent red from her sword gave her face a sprite-like appearance, and she inhaled the last carcass that ended up on the wrong side of Sparda.

**#41 – Wait**

Patience she lacked of that is for sure, so waiting would be out of the question; it's worse when her trusty memento refused to devil hunt with her, out of sheer demonic spite.

**#42 – Talk**

She not only walked the walk, she showed it with every flick of her wrist – Sparda with Trish in harmonious ever after, and the talk of the entire demon world.

**#43 – Search**

Procuring her black lengthy boots, Trish had to search for _him_ – she felt so utterly invisible without.

**#44 – Hope**

As she looked into the portrait of Eva, she could only grab hold of the amulet her mirror image possessed, wondering of its true power; however, as she looked into her image in the Sparda, there was something hopeful there that she couldn't quite pin down.

**#45 – Eclipse**

It was a good thing there was an eclipse that night when Trish saw a little boy fall into the hands of a powerful demon; she didn't think she could feel again the intensity of tears so much that she had to turn her pale face to the comfort of her large sword, obscuring her grief.

**#46 – Gravity**

Floating on air was how she fought; defying gravity - a blurry of black, flesh and blood, and the beauteous sword returning to her hand only fueled her bloodlust as it pulsated in an angry revenge.

**#47 – Highway**

Even when she rode on the highway on the bike with Sparda on her back, she never failed to get attention.

**#48 – Unknown**

The blonde demon hunter was never afraid; how she could be when every demon that came her way was just as ridiculous as the last one, but when there was an unknown entity that was more powerful than her – it was her keepsake that made sure it was history.

**#49 – Lock**

"Hey hot thing," cried one of the obnoxious drunks in the bar, "Why do you need such a big ass sword when you can have me?" – allowing the tall blonde to give the sorry fucker one hell of a heated locked gaze that had nothing to do with lust or happy thoughts, but before she could do anything to show him that Sparda is all she would want, was stopped by good ole' Dante, making it the sod's lucky day.

**#50 – Breathe**

She had forgotten to breathe really, as he was standing in front of her in purple and old fashion lace, and Trish blinked – once, twice, opening them wider so that her eyes had to adjust to seeing that he had returned to his dormant self.


End file.
